


Years to talk

by GinIsBetterThanFirewhiskey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Panic, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinIsBetterThanFirewhiskey/pseuds/GinIsBetterThanFirewhiskey
Summary: "She continued to frantically look around the Great Hall for a mop of dark hair, wondering where he could have gone again. And where were Hermione and Ron?"
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Years to talk

**Author's Note:**

> "Sometimes you'll never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory."- Theodor Seuss Geisel
> 
> Warnings: This fic is angsty as hell and there are scenes of grief and violence.
> 
> This story takes part just after the war and is about Ginny's reaction when she realized Harry was gone with Ron and Hermione without talking to her.
> 
> Some lines are taken from JKR's Harry Potter books.
> 
> Thanks to Dusk who is just the best of the best. I don't know what would be my life without you.

It had seemed like only minutes since everyone had been able to let out the breath they were holding, that everyone had dared to think about the next day, knowing they were lucky enough to see it, to have a future, to dream of a better day.

But it had been hours.

Ginny was sitting with her parents on a wooden bench in the damaged Great Hall, her gaze unfocused. That way, it was easier to not notice how a place where joy and laughter was once predominant was now one of pain and tears.

She could still smell the smoke of the last fire the Aurors had extinguished in the castle, a scent she now knew would be associated with corpses and cries. Destruction and broken dreams.

So many people hadn't had her chance and she tried to ignore the lump forming in her throat every time she'd thought about them in the last couple of hours. Ginny knew it was better not to think, not to imagine their faces smiling at her. It was a survival skill she'd managed to perfect since she'd returned to Hogwarts, away from her family, from _him_. But she was unable to stop the memories from flooding her mind this time.

She shouldn't cry.

Hell, _she_ was able to breathe, totally free of that oppressive darkness that was running the world only hours ago. She was able to celebrate, just like these people she was seeing hugging and laughing, shaking Harry's hand and promising him bottles and bottles of firewhiskey. Ginny had this privilege, unlike her friends, her dear brother, unlike Harry before he magically appeared in front of them…

_Harry is not dead. Harry is not dead._

Ginny closed her eyes again, trying to contain the rush of tears that fell on her cheeks for the thousandth time today. It wouldn't be good to cry now, especially not in front of her mother who was inconsolable and would bury her own despair to mend Ginny's. She had to be stronger than this.

Her mom was sobbing near her, shakily clutching her cold and dirty hands in hers. After the battle, when everyone had put their wands down, she'd seen her mom crumble on the floor, unable to catch her breath, like the pain in her heart was intolerable. As if she was dying herself. She couldn't help but think about her mother's boggart and how Molly was now forced to encounter her worst fear, the one that put you in a despair so deep that you think you'd never be able to live happiness again. And no magic, no possible spell, but only memories to hang on and a desire to save yourself would give you the strength to ever smile again.

Her father had just returned a while ago, letting Molly know he'd made sure Ron, Harry, and Hermione were okay. Ginny wasn't surprised. Of course he had, because it was in him to assure that his family was well, a sort of protectiveness both her parents had been graced with. He'd done it for all of his children in the last hours. He'd made sure to ask for a calming potion for George -ignoring how one could have been good for himself, too- and stayed with him until Charlie and Bill took his place.

She'd stayed with George too before Percy had taken her place. She remembered caressing his dusty ginger hair tenderly and letting him soak her jumper with the flow of his tears, which escaped at a lightning speed despite his endeavors to hold to them, to keep them in. They were escaping him like a part of him was snatched away from him brutally, flying away from him without shame. That part of him that was his future, his dreams, his soulmate, his twin, and it was so hard to watch him break down to that intensity. It was difficult to accept that Fred was dead, and then that a part of George was, also. The realization she hadn't only lost Fred, but George too, hit her like a ton of bricks, because the George she once knew was gone forever

No, she wouldn't only grieve one brother, but two.

Later, Ginny had heard Arthur murmur to Molly that Harry was in the good hands of Minerva and that he'd left Ron and Hermione alone after making sure they needed nothing. Her mother had shared a glance with her husband, one of understanding, because she too had picked up on how Ron and Hermione seemed to want to be left alone. Their backs were to everyone, only answering in short words, thus sending an impression of inaccessibility to the rest of the world.

What a time to let a love story bloom.

So, of course, the responsibility of comforting her mother had fallen on her shoulders.

Her father took place at her side and was now embracing her like he never had, like he was afraid to miss a moment with her, afraid she would disappear in front of his eyes, just like Fred.

Ginny looked away, finding it too painful to see the teary eyes of her strong father, her father who was always so happy, so joyful. To see the raw and deep pain in his eyes was unbearable.

A father, she now realized, who'd been imperturbable most of her life, but was now looking like the wind could break him in two.

Her eyes focused on Harry again, but he was too far for her to see all his features correctly. Ginny was still able to imagine how he would have wanted to do anything else than be there, surrounded by people drunk of victory, thirsty to touch him because he was the ONE. The only one.

_Merlin, he certainly hates that._

All Harry had ever wanted in his life was to be like everyone else and to melt in the crowd.

Surely, it was written all over his face that he was uncomfortable. How could they not realize it? It was so easy to read his face. How could people imagine, even for a second, that he was in the right mind to make plans about celebrations and speeches? It infuriated her. She found that she was crushing her mother's hand and took a deep breath from her nose, loosening her grip.

His black hair was messier than ever and even from where she was, she could discern the dust on his -still too big- clothes. The need to hold him, to take care of him like she never had, washed over her like a wave. How did only laying her eyes on him have such an effect on her body? Knowing Harry like she did, she was certain that his glasses were in a great need of being wiped, something that was often her job in the couple of magical weeks they had shared together.

Her mother's tears were the painful reminder that people had died, that people she loved dearly would never share a smile with her again, that the monster who had destroyed her years ago was gone forever, but most importantly that _Harry_ had died too. Ginny had felt her world crashing down on her, suffocating her, the moment Harry's damaged body had been at Voldemort's feet.

She was sure she'd died too at that moment. There had been no other explanation for this crushing feeling inside of her that had made it so difficult to breathe. Her heart had stopped and her brain flooded with cold. Her world had crashed down at her feet and she'd been blind from absolute pain -heart pain- for what had seemed like an eternity.

But Harry was alive, so why was it so painful to see him? Why was he so close, but so far?

Life had been good enough to return her Harry. The Harry Ginny had craved for endless months. The only one who could ease that fury in her heart.

She knew deep down that Harry was important, that he had so much more to do than to run to her, and take her in his arms, telling her he missed her, even if it was all she wanted to do. She was just waiting for him to seem reachable, just to talk to him, smell him. All she could do at that moment was to love him from afar while everyone else had a chance to share a moment with Harry. To be fair, she didn't even know if he still had feelings for her, and she was maybe a bit paralyzed at the idea he would simply speak to her by pity.

Ginny felt like her eleven year old self, flashing visions of chambers and snakes, of Harry bleeding and of an old leather book running in her mind, sucking the confidence she still had in her.

Harry could have decided that their road together really ended ten months ago, and Ginny would be lying to herself to think she was perfectly fine with it, but it was a price she was willing to pay if she was still able to look at him. Even if she wouldn't have the chance to be a part of his life, even if she wasn't a part of that future she'd wanted so much for them, it would, in part, be okay, because he was able to do. To be. To choose. To live.

And she was so grateful for it.

She would have given anything in the world for him to be alive, because the fact he could have died was a possibility she'd denied until she'd seen his beautiful face resting peacefully in the mud.

But now he was there, he was finally there... somewhere. With someone else.

That's when Ginny realized that she was feeling even more alone than when Harry was hours away from her. There was no difference in a way: she couldn't say what he was doing or where or with who he was more than when he was on the run, and she didn't have a right to ask either.

But it was okay. She would content herself with the knowledge that he was alive, even if she wasn't his priority right now. She'd once overcome her pain all alone, she needed no one to help her this time either.

_She didn't need Harry._

Maybe he was avoiding her deliberately too. After all, she knew how he was and clearly he'd prefer to be all alone in a hole than to search for what to say to her and her family after the previous events. It was normal that he needed time after what he went through tonight too, wasn't it? The fact that she could call that night the worst night of her life wasn't important compared to what Harry'd lived today.

Right?

The fact that people find relief in their partner's arms, solace in their breath and hope in their eyes, didn't mean she wouldn't find all of it without Harry.

And Harry didn't need her, it seemed.

Ginny was well-known to be the patient kind, especially when it came to Harry. How many years had she waited to be seen by him? _Really_ seen? And all that waiting for what, finally? To have to wait again and again?

It wouldn't be the first time she took her pain and swallowed it when it came to Harry Potter. Not that he had ever wanted to hurt her; she knew him. He wasn't like that. But just because you didn't want to hurt someone doesn't mean it never happened.

Did he realize he just killed the man who had possessed her soul for a year and whose voice was still murmuring her darkest secrets when she was feeling lonely?

Did he realize she wasn't a child?

It wasn't fair of her to think like that, she knew, but she couldn't help it right now. After tonight, a storm of emotions was raging inside of her chest, awaiting to explode and pour on everyone; the only possible solution was to wait for it to calm down.

She didn't want to be a burden for him, he didn't need this. All she really wanted was a little place in his arms to soothe his pain, and maybe hers. It wasn't fair to ask him to read her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny looked around the castle, unable to avoid seeing holes in the windows, tables turned and curtains left to shreds. She had the realization that -just like her- even if this castle had been once destroyed by darkness, it could be rebuilt again. It would with time and love. Everything could be rebuilt again, because nothing was doomed to stay broken if there was someone willing to work for it. She was the proof.

The castle would always be marked by terrible events and grief, and people would forget. They would move on and it wouldn't always be apparent that It was once destroyed.

' _I forgot.'_

People would be cheated by the future laughs and smiles the walls would contain, making them ridiculously believe it had never been the refuge of intense pain and despair. Of green lights flying around and eyes turning to stone forever.

' _But I want to go home,' whispered the girl. 'I don't want to fight anymore!'_

Taking a deep breath, her eyes fell momentarily on a burn mark on the wooden bench on which they were all seated. Ginny scowled, noticing how the bench that had once been the symbol of union between so many children seemed now broken. But it wasn't, was it? Today was the proof they were all in this together and she reminded herself that a scar wouldn't define someone, a fact Harry had tried to tell for all his life. Something she had had to remind herself more than once in the past few years.

She was more than what Tom had done to her.

It was crazy to think Tom was finally dead, for real. Her confidant, the person who had once been her best friend, who knew so much of her, who had vowed to always be there, was gone forever and would never come back.

She hated him, she dreamt of him dying painfully, but a twisted part of her wished _her_ Tom would be there right now, the one who made her believe she was worth it, that she didn't deserve to feel alone like that.

The one who was there when no one else was.

There was Luna, seated at a table alone, looking tired but serene. That's something she always admired about her friend. Ginny had been devastated when Luna had been kidnapped by the Death Eaters and wasn't able to close her eyes for days, wondering what was happening to that sweet girl she'd learned to know and love.

When she got off the train in December, she'd screamed and cried to her parents that they had to do something, anything, to save her and while her parents wanted to help because they would never leave a child in danger intentionally, they hadn't been able to find a way. They had communicated with other members of the Order, spending that Christmas around a table to make plans, looking sick with worry, but to no avail. Ginny was so grateful to see Luna alive because, to be honest, she was sure that the last time she saw Luna turning that corner in the train was the last memory she would ever have of her.

She tried to distract herself by observing the other people around the room, even if her eyes only wanted to look at the trim figure of the man who was making her heart beat as fast as the first time she'd seen him. Ginny was good to observe, to analyze, to _see_ details people weren't able to catch at the first sight so she focused on something she was good at, unlike controlling her emotions. It was easier, safer, familiar.

Looking further in the Great Hall, she caught Dean's eyes. Seamus and Neville were with him in a corner, looking nothing less than bruised and tired. They were talking animatedly and she noticed how their shoulders seemed less tense than a couple of hours ago when they didn't know if they would even be alive in the morning. Dean finally smiled at her, relief evident on his face and gave her a thumbs up. They were all looking like Christmas came early this year, despite having lost so much. So so much.

She imagined that Dean didn't have to look behind his back at every moment anymore, wondering if someone would discover who he was, was indeed a victory to celebrate. Ginny really tried to reciprocate his smile, but she wasn't able at the moment. Dean seemed to understand- for once- and nodded.

Briefly, she remembered the feeling of his arms around her when he'd run to her after the battle, bloody and tired. Dean had hugged her to his chest, cradling her head with his big hand exactly like he had so many times a year ago. Ginny had been so worried about her ex boyfriend, learning he was on the run too and wishing he wouldn't be caught. While it would never have worked with him and she'd been a fool to date him to try to forget Harry, he was still her friend and the idea that he could have died at the hand of Tom made her sick. And the fool had arrived without a wand…

She remembered looking into Dean's eyes, a silence stretching between them that she could only call familiar, like one she was used to dealing with when he tried to study her, to understand her. Something he had rarely succeeded at, until now. And she hated it.

"He'll come soon, you know."

Ginny had tried to smile and then crossed her arms, feeling irritably vulnerable under his gaze. "Of course I know. He's busy right now and, I mean, that's fine. He has so much on his mind. I can wait," she had responded, nodding to herself, like maybe she could convince her heart that she was telling the truth. "He's probably with Hermione and Ron. They need time together after all this. It's been a while since they saw each other. It's totally fine," she replied with a fake cheerfulness, one that one could only read as inappropriate in the circumstances, surrounded by tired people crying.

Dean had smiled to her and for a second, she wondered if she'd been able to fool him enough for him to let her be. Unfortunately for her, someone else had heard her.

"Ginny, honestly! Continue telling yourself that," said Demelza behind her, with a tone that irked all of her senses. Ginny had turned to face her friend, knowing Dean had done the same. She had been surprised to find her there and a little annoyed that her discussion with Dean had reached someone else's ears. The thing was that Demelza was a really good friend, and one that was blunt, something Ginny quite liked about the girl. Demelza had no filter though, and at that moment, didn't have the whole picture. She didn't know Harry.

She didn't know a fucking thing.

Breathing through her nose, Ginny had observed Demelza, who'd had her arms crossed. Her eyes were puffy and red, and Ginny knew that when they had found Colin's body, Demelza had been unconsolable. They were really close, like brother and sister. And, looking at Demelza, Ginny had been able to see she was full of hatred and ready to lash out at anybody. And of course, she would have been there for her friend, but she wouldn't have let her dismish Harry.

Fuck no.

Ginny had tried to calm down, telling herself her friend was clearly shaken by the night. They had just battled for hours and hours, not knowing if they would have been alive in the next five minutes. Hearing screams and seeing bodies falling on the ground. Hoping your love ones were still somewhere, running around, still safe from the giants that were throwing bodies left and right, the werewolves biting flesh like there was no tomorrow, green lights flying so close to you, It burnt, giant spiders-

"He's not here. And he's not going to return soon. You know that. You know who he's with- and don't give me that bullshit, 'it's because they hadn't seen each other for a while.' But it's easier to convince yourself it's because he's still so busy, right? He's sad, he's tired, he's this and that, I know you," Demelza had added, her voice filled with anger. "Merlin! Stop loving someone who's not ready to love you back. Yes, I said it! Stop-, Godric Ginny," she'd continued, a hand on her face like she was truly exasperated by Ginny's shock.

"Just stop being there for someone who fucking doesn't even care if you're there or not, or if you'll even be there in a hour! Did he even look at you? Tell me, seriously, did he? Did he not know you're here? Did he forget who you are? Where is he, for real? Gosh, be honest with yourself. How many fucking times did you think you'd die tonight and hoped he'd be there, comforting you? Guess what! He's not. Like Colin is not! He's not and he doesn't care. He forgot. Simple as that."

_I forgot._

Again, the faint memory of Harry's voice had rung in her head and it had destabilized her momentarily. She'd felt like a storm was raging in her heart as she'd tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

_I. Forgot._

No, he hadn't. Not again. She knew Harry. She knew that man more than anyone and she wasn't going to let someone talk about him that way, pretending to know anything about their relationship or what they went through and acting like It was their business to begin with.

Eyes flashing and jaw clenched, Ginny had gotten in Demelza's face, looking up in her eyes.

"Who are you to say that? You wouldn't even be there without him!" she'd replied, pointing a finger towards her. "You have no idea, not a fucking idea. I know Harry and I know how he is. He's one of the best guys I've ever known! Just- What do you know about him, really? Apart that he's the guy who saved your ass tonight? You don't know what-" Ginny had tried to say, her hands in fists to keep from punching Demelza in the face.

"Harry cares, is it clear? He always cares too much in fact, and clearly it shows just how much you don't fucking know him. He went through something terrible all year, he can have time for him. We never- we never said we were going to be together again," Ginny had succeeded to say, the words leaving her trembling lips. "And what- what does it matter to you if he's not at my side like a puppy tonight? Really?" she'd asked, having regained control of her voice. "I don't need him. I'm fine, and we'll talk when he's ready, simple as that."

_Bitch._

Demelza had looked at her in shock. " What? What does it matter to me? You're my friend! Of course I care, and-"

"Well, care less! Mind your business. Do whatever you want to do, but leave me alone," Ginny had shouted at her friend, whose eyes were now filling with tears again.

"Ginny, I don't think Dem wanted-" Dean had tried.

"She wanted," Ginny had responded, her jaw clenched and her eyes never leaving Demelza's face.

"Ginny, I just don't want you to be hurt again," Demelza had continued with fervor. "I just think that maybe, if _you_ stop trying for _both_ of you, he'll begin to-"

"Ok girls, stop. Look, Demelza, It's not fair to say he doesn't care," had then cut Dean with a calm voice, making clear It was the end of the discussion. "I'm not Harry so I won't pretend I know anything about what's happening between those two," he'd said, pointing Ginny, "but I know it's not our business. Harry's a good guy, Dem, you know him. He'll come around. If Ginny says it's fine, it's fine," Dean had added, eyebrows furrowed like there was no more discussion to have.

A silence had then taken place between them, all looking in each other's eyes and letting air fill their lungs, calming their senses. That's when Ginny had seen it, how Demelza's facade had simply broken, letting the flow of emotions pour unto herself **.** Demelza didn't want to see another friend hurting. She wasn't in control of her emotions and, though Ginny wasn't ready to forgive the words she'd said, she had understood.

Opening her arms, her friend had run into them, crashing her head on Ginny's shoulder and sobbing the loss of her friends and of her innocence. Ginny knew the pain it could cause to lose it, when someone snatched it away from you when you weren't ready, when you were too young. Crying because she wouldn't be the same girl ever again and would live with images in her head for the rest of her life. Murmuring over and over again "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you're right. It's just...I'm so sorry," Demelza had held Ginny like she was afraid she'd run away, letting her alone in this mess. _Like Colin did._

Ginny had simply stayed there, rubbing her friend's hair with Demelza's words washing over her, holding her tight like she had the important job of not letting her friend break into million pieces.

Dean had stayed there with his hands in his pockets and looking completely uncomfortable in the situation. He patted Demelza's back until she stopped crying. She then smiled at them, and with a shaky breath, let them know they'd see each other later, having Denis to meet. Ginny had reciprocated the smile, hoping it didn't look too fake.

"Well, what a night," Dean had chuckled uncomfortably. He'd cleared his throat and, with his hands still in his pockets and frowning at the ground, he'd waited a moment before talking again, stretching the awkward moment more than It was humanly comfortable, Ginny thought.

"Listen, Hum. I don't want to let you alone but," he'd said, rubbing his neck. He'd looked like he was trying to find the right words and in another moment, Ginny would have had the kindness to help him, to guess what he wanted to say, but she was just feeling so tired…

"-If you need me, I'll be with Seamus. But, really, join us if you want!"

"That's fine," she'd tried to say with all the enthusiasm she had been able to gather, but it ended up sounding a bit weird. Still, Dean had had the decency to say nothing and act like he hadn't noticed - though maybe he really hadn't - and Ginny had bumped his shoulder with hers to catch his attention again. "You two need each other and I know he missed you a lot," she added, proud of herself when she saw Dean's cheeks flushing. "Let's go, you. Don't make him wait more. Lovers need to be together today," she'd said, winking at her ex-boyfriend and trying to tell herself It didn't need to apply to all lovers, right? She was completely fine right now.

She didn't need Harry.

Dean had looked at her, gaping, like he couldn't believe what she'd just said but Ginny had raised an eyebrow, clearly indicating that it wasn't a surprise, and then giving him a genuine smile. Dean had responded with his own smile, one that could have illuminated all the Great Hall. "Right, see you then," he'd laughed, as he'd squeezed her hand. Dean had then turned on the spot to join Seamus, totally forgetting about Ginny's existence.

Now, looking at Dean laughing with his friends, the absence of Harry's presence was harder to ignore than before and Ginny turned her head, needing to find Harry again and see if he was okay - alive. Swallowing the panic she felt from not seeing him anywhere, she noticed that the vultures that were trying to have a piece of him earlier seemed to have found another person to trap, though Slughorn was in his element. She thought, maybe a bit naively, that it would finally be her chance to find him then, to spend time with him. It was time to get up and run to him. Anyway, he was probably trying to find her too...

That's when she saw him. Harry was sitting with Luna, a shy smile on his tired face, speaking with her.

Ginny delicately moved her shoulder, an attempt to let her father know she wanted to get up. Fortunately he got the hint and moved his arm off her shoulder. Her mother turned to her and they shared a smile, the fakest smile they both could produce. She got up and noticed how her father's hand, the one that was around her a second ago, was also tenderly caressing her mother's arm, procuring a support that only people in love can procure for each other.

That's probably why she felt so lost without _his_ support right now.

She looked at her parents, making sure they were still fine while she wasn't there, and saw Bill making their way to them. When she turned again, Luna was speaking loudly, making a weird move above her head and Harry had disappeared.

Her heart started beating faster and she felt the sting of her nails biting into her palms.

Where was he?

She continued to frantically look around the Great Hall for a mop of dark hair, wondering where he could have gone again. And where were Hermione and Ron?

That's when it clicked. He was gone with them. He wasn't coming to find her now that he was free.

Of course he wasn't.

The truth felt like a punch in her stomach, stealing her breath.

Harry had left with Dumbledore and Ron and had the responsibility to tell her. He'd left at the wedding. He didn't want her to come to the Department of Mysteries. He didn't want her to fight. And today, he'd left and made her think he was dead. Would he always leave her behind without telling her anything?

Ginny wondered though if she even had the right to ask him to know, and the answer came to her quickly: a flash of an annoyed Harry outside of the Burrow, assuring Ron he would never kiss her again. She'd heard everything, each word that escaped his lips, each one destroying the hope she'd accepted her heart to carry, like a secret she was treasuring, adding fuel to her tears.

No. She didn't have a right to hope he'd share anything with her because he'd made it more than clear. They were done, the truth skinning her heart like a knife. Ron would always be more important than her in Harry's heart, and somehow, she couldn't be angry at him. Ron had been his everything; his hope of a new life filled with laughter and joy. He'd been the one who taught him kindness and friendship and who shared with him without thinking, without restraint, his world, his home, his bedroom, his family.

Ron was wonderful and damn, she'd missed her brother so much, and he didn't want to be with her either.

She sighed.

Did she ever have a healthy relationship with Harry? Or anyone for that matter? Was it normal to have so many secrets like Harry had, or like she had when she was with Dean and Michael? Her parents seemed to always tell each other everything so was it too much to think she'd share that proximity, that tenderness and specialness with Harry?

Did it come with time? Would it ever come with Harry? Did he want to share everything with her or was it again a stupid dream she had?

Maybe she'd put too much of herself in this relationship, or maybe Tom was right. Harry would never love her. They never shared what they were really feeling for each other, so it wasn't fair of her to assume he would still want her a year later, that he was still experiencing feelings for her. What if he'd found someone else? He hadn't even spoken to her in the Room of Requirement, he hadn't said anything when Cho proposed she go with him. What if he hadn't felt it too, that connection she thought they shared together?

No. It had to stop. Ginny was just emotional and sensitive right now and she'd to get it together and stop thinking about some stupid "what if". She was losing her mind. Ron and Hermione needed Harry and he needed his friends, he had every right to choose with who he wanted to spend his day. Harry just defeated Tom, clearly he was exhausted and little love stories weren't his priorities.

She knew she was spiraling and she was struggling to have a grasp on her emotions right now. Yes, he was probably with Ron and Hermione. And? It wasn't the first time he was with them when she wanted him with her...

She couldn't control all these negative thoughts and, to her horror, a tear broke the wall she'd fought so hard to let in place. She blinked it away, trying to force the inexplicable anger she was now feeling to disappear.

She'd to get out of here before she lost it completely in front of everyone. In front of Harry. Wherever he was.

Biting the inside of her mouth to control herself, she lifted her head towards the enormous hole that had once been the magical ceiling, catching a sunbeam that momentarily blinded her. She remembered entering the Great Hall with all the other first years for the first time, seeing this magnificent ceiling that had enchanted her immediately the instant she'd put her eyes on it.

She kept her eyes on it to fight the tears again, knowing it would wash away the dust on her cheek. It would be a proof she'd let it go, a proof she wasn't willing to give to anyone.

Her eyes locked with Percy's and she let out a shaky breath.

He would do.

Percy was another matter she didn't want to think about too much, but her heart jumped every time she was able to put her eyes on him. She'd missed him, as simple as that. His demeanor, the way he was always replacing his glasses on his nose - so different, so much less endearing than how Harry did it - his laugh (the rare time he graced them the opportunity to hear it), the way he always thought he was right and better than them. Deep down, she knew it was his way to protect himself because he knew he wasn't, he knew he'd missed her. Percy had hurt them, there was no way to deny it, but he was there.

And now she needed him. Even if she was still so upset.

She made her way to Percy who wasn't far from them, hands in his pockets, clearly not knowing where to go, what to do, how to deal with the horrible feeling that a part of them was gone forever.

_Fred._

Her whole body hurt with each step, and she became aware of the tenderness in her thigh,knowing firmly that she would sport a bruise tomorrow. She replayed the scene in her head, flashes of when Dolohov had succeeded in violently throwing her on the ground, and she'd luckily managed to roll on the side to avoid the killing curse. Her right arm was sore from lifting it in the air, wand in hand.

Percy was looking at her the whole time she walked to him, his eyes shadowed by fear. Fear of rejection, she realized with a deep pang.

"Percy."

"Ginny, listen," he began, and then cleared his throat awkwardly, showing just how he was uncomfortable in the situation, uncomfortable in front of _her_. "I should start by, you know, hum. I'm sorry for-"

Her eyebrows furrowed for a fraction of time, not feeling particularly strong enough to deal with that right now, so she decided to cut it short. "It's not the right time for this Percy. Listen, I have something to ask you."

Percy's face darked at her authoritarian tone, not being used to hearing it from her. Last time he was around, she was just a child. She'd been cold sometimes, but he'd never taken her seriously. She was too small, too young, she didn't know anything about life, she should have stayed playing with her dolls. Ginny couldn't count how many times he'd told her that. She wasn't a child now, despite what her father and Harry were thinking. Nobody in this castle was one anymore. Whatever how old they were.

' _You're too young to come to the Ministry-'_

"What do you want from me?" he asked, lifting his chin in the best Weasley-esque way possible, another reminder that whatever he did, he was family, and he would have never been able to remove that part of him, regardless of what he'd done to try to take it away.

Her jaw clenched thinking about that, but Fred's face immediately flooded in her mind and she decided that however angry at him she was, he deserved to hear it from her, that her love for him was still stronger and there would be a time to tell him that what he did was terrible.

He didn't need that right now. And she didn't either.

"Percy, I need a minute. I-I can't stay there right now. I'll just-" she stopped mid-sentence, swallowing her emotions. She wasn't going to cry in front of Percy Weasley. "I'll go take a walk and I wanted to tell someone. That's all. Just tell Mum and Dad I'm around, okay?"

"What? Wait! You can't go. They'll search for you. I really don't think it's the time, Ginevra. We need to stay together for Mum-"

"Are you serious right now?" Ginny asked through clenched teeth, not believing what she was hearing. They needed to stay together. Right.

Her brother looked offended. "Yes I am. Of course I am. And where's Ronald anyway?" Percy asked, looking over her head. "He should be here with his family, not running-"

"I don't think you have anything to say about that Percy Weasley. Where were you the last two years? Don't say anything about Ron. If I were you, I'd just shut up."

Percy looked into her eyes like he was seeing her for the first time, and Ginny noticed how he looked miserable, how his eyes held a regret he would have for the rest of his life. She wasn't feeling bad for saying the truth... no, maybe it was a bit harsh, but she didn't regret it. There was no place to deny that she was feeling bad for her brother though because, no matter what, she didn't like to see him hurting. Percy had tried many times to connect with her, though it was in the wrong way... but he'd tried, and who was she to take it back from him? She took a deep breath, trying to push away the tornado of feelings she was experiencing.

"I'll- I know that," Percy began, pursing his lips together.

"I'm sorry. I'll just-I need to be outside a moment. I'll see you later, okay?"

She then moved quickly, not letting the time with Percy dissuade her, to tell her it's irresponsible, or think about how her parents were going to freak out if they couldn't see her. Ginny needed air, needed to stay alone with herself and to regain control of her emotions a little. It wasn't too much to ask, wasn't it? She wouldn't go far, anyway, and it was full of aurors outside. It's not like she would be the only one. She was waiting for Percy to lecture her but it never came. Percy had the decency to say nothing for once and just let her be for a change. She looked over her shoulder, making sure he wasn't following her, but he was only watching her making her way in the crowd, a frown on his face, like he didn't know if he was taking the right decision by letting her go.

Gripping her wand, she walked around the corner, where she caught Michael's eyes as he sat with a couple of Ravenclaws, Cho included. He smiled at her and, to her surprise, jumped to his feet and ran to her.

"Ginny! Wait!"

She wasn't particularly keen to speak with him in her state of mind, but it would be a lie to think she wasn't relieved to hear his voice, to see that he was all right and not hurt. Or dead.

She was the queen of making believe everyone she was fine, so a couple more minutes wouldn't be the end of the world. At least someone wanted to see her.

Michael engulfed her into a hug and she returned it, imagining, for just a minute, It was Harry's arms.

"Thank God you're alive!" he murmured into her hair, and she nodded, unable to say anything and hugging him tighter, like it said everything.

He didn't smell good like Harry. His embrace lacked the tenderness of Harry's, the way each hug seemed to be something to carve into his memory, like it could be the last one. Did he think about it when it was the last one he gave her? Did he still remember it?

"I'm really happy to see you. Are you hurt?" he asked, as he let her go.

"I-no," she answered, shaking her head "And you?"

"I'm fine. What a night, right? I heard about your brother, I just want to say that I'm sorry."

She smiled at him, not knowing what to say, feeling the pain was still so raw, that answering this would mean it was true; it would be accepting his death.

Ginny wished it wasn't Michael who was asking how she was. Like she'd wished it wasn't him who had given her her first kiss. After exchanging a couple of words, he made his way back to the Ravenclaw table, leaving her alone with her thoughts as her feet moved towards the outside where the wind brought to her the faint scent of fires still burning away.

Looking in front of her and making sure to not fall because of a bit of wall fallen on the ground, she let out a relieved breath, realizing no one seemed to look at her, which was perfect because she didn't know how long again she would be able to keep the flow of tears away. With each step, with each breath, she felt like it placed a weight on her chest.

She just needed to get outside. Outside it would be better. Outside wasn't where Fred died. But it wasn't where Harry was dead-

Maybe she could find Harry - _alive_ Harry- outside. She would respect his wish to be away from her right now, because clearly he knew she was there so she assumed he needed time. He needed someone else. And despite the fact it hurt, she wasn't going to not understand it, wasn't she?

She wouldn't let the anger flooding in her veins take control because she'd no right to feel like that. Harry just saved the world, who was she to tell him to be near her and only her? He couldn't know that the fact she thought he was dead had been her worst nightmare coming alive, a dizziness that made her lose her footing on the Earth, that took away her last hope of a better world. And for a different reason than everybody. She hadn't lost the Chosen one, she had lost her lover.

He was probably outside. He loved it to be outside. To be able to see him - _just_ see him- would make it easier, she was sure.

His presence always made everything easier.

That's why it was so tough right now.

Did he know just how he was important in her life? How, when nothing felt right, it had always been in his arms she'd wanted to be, to appease the torments in her heart, the volcano ready to erupt?

Did he just know how she wanted to share everything with him? The joys, the fears, the sorrows? Where was he right now when all she wanted was him? She wanted him to say he was proud of her, happy she was alive. She needed to show him how she'd been scared when she'd watched him run to Voldemort, how her heart had stopped when his body had hit the ground at the feet of his - _their_ \- enemy. She wanted to tell him how she thought he was beautiful, how she couldn't be prouder of the man he'd become.

How could they possibly have a future, think about building something together? How could he be the man she'd want to marry one day if, when they'd lived through something big, when she'd need him the most, he'd run to share it with her brother?

Would it always be like that? Would Hermione and Ron always go before her?

Her emotions were all over the place. She was unable to control her thoughts. They weren't dating anymore.

' _I've got to do things alone now.'_

Leaving the castle, she could hear the birds chanting their melody, like nothing had happened that night. The world was still turning for them, even if _her_ world was now turned inside out.

A white panic compressed her lungs, making it difficult to breathe, when she realized how possible it was that Harry didn't want her anymore. A feeling so raw and intense that she had no choice than to accept the sobs leaving her lips, losing the fight once and for all. She was weeping uncontrollably, convulsive gasps escaping the prison of the hand she'd put on her mouth. She cried like that for a moment and then her sadness seemed to evaporate like it was simply too much for her own body; her mind just closed and trapped her pain, to leave her visibly pale and shaken.

The cold morning air made her shudder and she brought her arms around her to keep her warmer, but also knew that it was a way to feel protected, unreachable. With sleeves of her jumper firmly in her hands, she continued her walk, ignoring the corpses of the giant spiders on the horizon.

Her arms felt heavy, like they would graze the ground at any second, and she surprised herself when she realized she was singing herself a lullaby, perhaps a way for her mind to calm herself before hyperventilating again.

She felt exhausted, wondering why life was so hard, why it was so hard to trust the people you loved? Nothing seemed to matter anymore, all these months waiting for him, all these nights hoping he was safe, hoping he was maybe - only a little- thinking about her too. Nothing seemed to make sense, despair and helplessness made their noisy way into her, filling her mind. It was difficult to put a foot in front of the other now that the tiredness embraced her limbs. She felt numb and alone, vaguely remembering that her wand was in her hand

Blowing hot air on her cold fingers, Ginny concentrated on each step she took, hoping it would take her away from her misery. Maybe if she walked faster-

She didn't even have the time to turn around.

Ginny only heard the words coming out of their mouths, spat with such venom that she was taken aback. Her hands came to her stomach, where a blinding pain hit her. Turning her head with difficulty, she could see that the person wasn't there anymore, probably now hiding somewhere in the wood. She could hear faint footsteps coming in her direction and someone calling for her.

It wasn't Harry.

* * *

Harry was completely and utterly exhausted, not having eaten or slept for the past two days.

He noticed, after a moment, that his friends, with whom he was walking slowly to the Gryffindor tower, had been silent a moment.

_Finally._

Harry knew they were lost in their thoughts, just like him, trying to find a way to deal with the horrible flashes of memories that kept popping inside their heads. He wished for the tenth time this day to be able to forget the last day - the last year- but they kept coming and coming, bombarding his mind and not letting him rest.

Despite the memories of the war raging in his head, the only sound he was able to hear around him was their footsteps scratching the floor and Hermione sniffing a bit, a total contrast compared to a couple of hours earlier.

Hermione had told them she wasn't feeling well when they had left the Great Hall, and Harry had noticed from the corner of his eye how her chest was lifting quickly. Hermione had started hyperventilating. Harry had watched Ron take her in his arms and gently sit with her on the nearest bench and she'd had a breakdown. Sadness for his best friend had surged through him, squeezing his heart, but he couldn't have thought of something to do. He'd watched Ron murmur things in her ear and kiss her temple while she nodded, while he'd stayed there, giving worried smiles to Hermione when he'd caught her eye. And watching them together, sitting there in a strong embrace, only in their own world, had been painful and uncomfortable, more than he could admit.

Ron had seemed to understand his predicament like always, and had asked him to fetch a calming potion for her, something Harry had rushed to do. Pomfrey had showed him where they were, too busy with an injured student to get some herself, and Harry had supposed that he wasn't the first to need a calming potion today since her reserve seemed smaller than ever.

The potion had done wonders for Hermione who had been able to continue to their dormitory to get some sleep, with Ron's promise that he would prepare her a bath before.

The dormitory. A place he hadn't been for so long, before everything had crashed, before...

He wasn't even sure if there was any damage to the place and if they would be able to sleep in it. Looking at the castle, it seemed ridiculous to think they would even be able to enter, that the walls would still be up.

Would he even be able to sleep? He felt like his entire body was alerted, the adrenaline still not having left it completely.

Harry had tried to not look at the damaged castle around them; the blood on the floor, the torned tapestries, the busted windows, the walls that had crashed, walls… _Fred._

He shook his head, shuddering momentarily as the cold air entering the castle hit his at himself, he saw how his clothes were dirty, blood and dirt sprinkled on them. His jeans were mostly brown from his knees to his shoes.

They didn't even talk about what they would do after it. It was obvious that they needed to take care of their primary needs. The three friends needed to sleep, shower, and eat. Everything else could wait. Hermione seemed to the point of passing out and Ron was slightly pale and probably extremely famished.

Harry had noticed earlier that some Death Eaters were apparating away when Voldemort fell, so he knew that it wasn't totally over; there were a lot of people to capture and throw in Azkaban, so many other things to do…

The ministry was a mess, the school needed to be rebuilt, families and friends to bury. Just thinking about it made his head hurt and his throat tighten. But for now, just like Hermione and Ron had told him near the lake, they couldn't do anything; they needed rest before thinking of the enormous list of tasks that awaited them. It wasn't easy for Harry to just leave everything in the hands of others, but it was true that he felt slightly nauseous. He felt his eyes close on his way to the dormitory, horrible images flashing behind his eyelids.

The idea of going to see the Weasley passed through his head but he couldn't think of what to say to their their teary eyes. He was rubbish with this kind of thing, never knowing what to say to people who were hurting, and right now, he felt it wasn't his place. It was easier to just leave them alone and fly away. Harry wasn't a coward normally, though he'd proved it the last hour, but damn it, this time, he didn't know what to do. A fear of rejection bubbled into his chest.

Fred was a really good friend, a member of his practically adopted family, but he felt like if he went to them, he would only make everything worse. They might accuse him, tell him to just go away, because if he'd fought earlier, many lives would have been saved.

His thoughts went to Fred's laugh, his smile, Remus' kind eyes, Tonks' smirk, Colin's shining eyes, and Harry's eyes teared. Brushing them angrily with his dirty hands, he felt Hermione jerk away from him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," he murmured softly to her. Ron was looking at them with concern and closed his hand around Hermione's. The gesture didn't pass unnoticed from their friend and Harry felt his lips briefly curve into a smile. It was good to see them openly together.

Instantly, his thoughts turned to Ginny. She looked so broken, her head on her mother's shoulder. He felt a pang of guilt rise inside him, remembering her eyes looking at the ground.

Her normally luminous, laughing eyes had seemed so… off. . Of course, she was hurting. Her brother just died, her friends too... so much had happened tonight. It would have been hypocritical of him to believe that, because she'd been in his place so many times, that she would be smiling right now.

Harry closed his eyes briefly, trying to diminish the emotions that arose inside him with an immense force. He took a deep breath and felt Hermione's hand in his. The move made him uncomfortable but he forced himself to not jerk away from her. He looked at her and tried to smile, but knew that his attempt had failed. He didn't feel like being touched right now. The only person who could touch him right now was in another room with her family, grieving.

It wasn't his place right now. Harry didn't think he could handle all that, so it would be for the best that he took time to sleep a little, maybe eat a sandwich, shower. Yes. They would have time to talk. He will be of greater help in a couple of hours, after some rest; he was too afraid of saying something wrong if he didn't sleep a little.

He didn't want to fuck it up.

Wondering if she even wanted him there for an instant, if he had a right to think about her like that, he pushed his thoughts away. Ginny always waited for him. That's why she was so precious.

Right now, he didn't think he could handle anything, even less talking to anyone. Not after the battle, the search for the diadem, his death, his parents appearing in front of him… He didn't want to think about the deaths, the future hours he knew he'd spend at the Ministry in the next weeks, the looks of the Weasleys' faces, Ron, George, Mrs Weasley… Ginny. Ginny's cries. Letting Hermione's hand go, he curled his fist at his side and began to walk faster. His head was throbbing intensely against his temples.

He and Ginny would have time.

Yes, he felt on his lips his first real smile in a while, knowing that now, everything was possible. It wasn't the image of a faceless man in front of Ginny at her wedding; no, it was him. It was over.

They had time.

They had hours, days, months, years to talk.

* * *

His hands in his pocket, firmly gripping his wand, Harry tried to ignore Ron and Hermione's voices. Unfortunately, the silence of earlier made them comment on everything on their way to the tower. His head was throbbing while his nerves were sensitive and all he asked for right now was silence. Once in his bed he would be able to stay alone with his thoughts, working on forgetting the images he'd seen today.

"It's bloody awful, that's what is it."

"I don't know what Shackle-"

Hermione's sentence was cut abruptly by a patronus running in their direction, one that seemed strangely familiar to Harry.

They turned their head in its direction, seeing it turn to the hospital wing and not being visible to them anymore. Still, nobody moved. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong, and his suspicion was confirmed when his eyes fell on Ron's face. He then noticed Hermione gripping Ron's arm, looking worriedly at his white face.

Ron knew that patronus.

That's when they saw Mrs. Pomfrey, McGonagall and a couple of aurors bolting down the corridor, looking straight in front of them.

"It was Bill's," confirmed Ron.

It was like if Harry's heart was trying to leave his body by how fast it beat. Something had happened, something big, and Bill was involved. Looking around him, he caught two students discussing what had just happened and jogging in their direction, probably following the adults to see what was happening.

"-believe we're not safe outside, yet. There were aurors there!"

"It's scary, seriously. I just want it all to end. I heard that boy screaming something-"

"Yeah, I just heard her name. And she was so sweet. It's because of her that Bubbley is safe at his home. I can't-" the student trailed off, looking away in front of her.

"-I mean, if they succeeded in attacking _her_ -" the other student added, his voice less audible the further it went.

Harry's feet were already moving in the same direction as them, not surprised to see Ron and Hermione at his side.

_Her._

_No. No. No._

Breaking into a run, his blood pumping in his ears, he jumped above the rocks scattered on the ground, not letting anything slow him down. In a moment, he'd passed the enormous wooden doors that led them outside, Ron and Hermione following him closely.

The chilly wind of the morning slapped his face, making his vision blurry, and all he could hear was Ron's frantic breaths - or were they his? - and some distant, alarmed cries.

People were in a circle around someone and he automatically started to run to them, noticing that Mrs. Pomfrey was bent over a body. A body with fiery red hair.

He ran harder, faster, ice piercing his heart, a buzz ringing in his ears. He knew it inside of him, he felt it.

Some people looked at them arriving, and immediately moved to the side to let them pass, giving them the chance to see who was that small form on the cold ground.

Ginny was there, bloody and white.

Mrs. Pomfrey and Professor Mcgonagall were kneeling at her sides, wands in the air while Neville held GInny's hand and Charlie was at her feet.

"Stay with us Ms. Weasley, stay with us. Ginny, It's going to be okay, stay with us," Harry heard Professor McGonagall say, to his complete horror.

Ron - being taller than Harry and Hermione - had arrived first to be stopped by an auror, preventing him from moving forward and joining his little sister. His indignants cries made everyone turn to look at him. Molly and Arthur's heartbreaking cries torn Harry's heart, their eyes never leaving their daugther's form. Harry saw Charlie immediately make his way towards his brother to calm him; Fleur was crying into Bill's arms, and there were George and Percy, their vacant eyes looking at the scene.

"Vulnera Sanentur, VULNERA SANENTUR," the mediwitch said over and over again, her wand directed towards Ginny's belly. Mrs. Pomfrey looked at Ginny's face, and Harry saw from this angle that her eyes were full of panic. "Darling, no don't close your eyes, stay with us! Minerva, I need you to keep her awake-" she commanded, her eyes never leaving Ginny's face.

It was all Harry needed to push someone out of the way, not bothering a fucking second with their accusing cry, and he collapsed down to the ground, reaching Ginny. He barely noticed that he'd hurt his knee on a sharp rock. He was totally indifferent to the pain it caused as the one from the vision of Ginny, eyes closed, and lying on the grass dominated everything else.

Neville moved to the side and let his place to Harry. Later, Harry would be able to thank him to have been there - always there - for his wife when he couldn't have been himself, but in that moment, he just wanted Neville to let her hand go, to step away from her, the monster in his chest roaring that it was his place to be, and nobody else's.

The terror he experienced was one he never thought possible. A churning sensation in his belly followed by a prickling on his tongue gave him the signal that if he wasn't looking away from her face a second, he would vomit. The realisation of what was happening was too painful, too unreal.

Blood, so much blood.

Hers.

Harry allowed himself to glance up, his vision unfocused, to examine what Mrs. Pomfrey was trying to do to save Ginny. The loud commands, the aggressive murmurs and the cries around him made his ears buzz in an uncomfortable way, but he didn't mind. He'd allowed himself to glance up, but only a second, too afraid to miss something important: a breath, a flutter of eyelid, a lip moving slightly, a pressure of her delicate hand onto his…

Simply too afraid to spend another second of his life without looking at her, _properly_ , like he should have done way sooner. _Years sooner._ Too afraid to miss how beautiful she was, how she was wonderful and kind, funny and strong. Afraid to miss how good she made him feel, made him want to be better. How she was everything he needed, that he'd _ever_ needed. Afraid that every little memory he had of her through the years would disappear the second she did...

No. No. She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't dare. He needed her. Ginny had no right to die like all the others. She wasn't allowed to die like Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Cedric, Colin, Dobby, his parents… She was supposed to be unattainable, untouchable by darkness. It was supposed to be the end. They were supposed to have days, months, years to talk.

Harry had had enough. He couldn't take this. Not again. Not like this. Not now.

Not _her_.

The ultimate truth was that he would never be able to take this when It came to Ginny.

Harry was paralyzed, unable to take his eyes away from her face, his mind a blur of sweet memories including fiery red hair and sweet laughter. Of gentle caresses and understanding.

Images of bright brown eyes looking at him from a semi-closed door at the Burrow appeared in his mind, followed by a memory of her sitting in the library sharing a chocolate egg with him, a poem, Arnold, a wink, a cute get-well card, Ginny cooking potato mash at the Burrow or sitting at his side next to a fire on a cold night of summer, surrounded by her family. Her laughter when she'd won at Quidditch or the way she concentrated doing her homework in the common room. Her love for berries at breakfast, or Ginny cleaning at Grimmauld Place, casting a spell in the Department of Mysteries, eating in the Great Hall, being worried at St Mungo's, trying to listen at a Order meeting, in her pyjamas in the morning, reading a book at Grimmauld, picking tomatoes in the garden at the Burrow or a Ginny making Christmas decorations, her white face in the Chamber...

Harry saw her wand on the ground at her thigh, and without thinking about it, he took it with one hand, feeling the polished wood on his fingers. Her wand was so different than his, but he felt a connection with it he'd never felt with another wand, even the Elder wand. It was hers and he wanted it to be safe, to be able to give it to her the second he would be able to do it, so he put it in his pocket, his other hand still squeezing hers.

That's why she was supposed to return to Shell Cottage, or at her Aunt Muriel's house, or _fuck_ , wherever the hell she could have gone but here. His desperation turned to anger briefly, his jaw tightened.

He'd thought she'd understood his need of her being away to be able to do what he had to do without focusing on her. Somewhere else. Anywhere else but _here_.

But he should also have thought about how that girl was even more stubborn than him sometimes, that she wouldn't have sat patiently at a table, waiting for news. That his Gin would have wanted to kick arses too, to protect the others, to make them regret everything they had done.

She'd needed to DO something; he knew this, he knew her. How could he have asked her to return to the room and wait? There was no use lying to himself now or to be angry at her. Ginny had needed to be there just like he'd needed to and he knew it was unfair.

It was exactly why he _loved_ her.

His clammy hands were shaking so intensely that Harry had to squeeze the fabric of her sleeve through his fingers, using the back of his other hand to brush away the veil of tears flooding his burning eyes. The oppressive feeling of despair took space in his lungs, burning with a vengeance at every breath, making him feel like he was about to suffocate.

Oh Merlin, he needed her to live, to tell her just how he needed her. _Why_ he needed her more than anyone else, what she represented for him...

It couldn't be the last time he ever touched her - when she didn't even know he was doing it- not now that Voldemort was dead, when the hope of a life at her side had blossomed into something possible the moment Voldemort's body had crashed on the ground.

Funny how life made you realize how you needed someone, how you _loved_ someone, but only when you weren't sure to ever have them again, when you were about to lose them _forever_.

How he was regretting not running into her arms when she'd entered the Room of Requirement, having dreamed of the feeling of her soft skin on his for endless nights. How his craving for Hermione and Ron's presence over Ginny's felt insignificant, finally. He'd spent the year with them. It had been easier to postpone their reunion than to accept that there was a possibility she'd moved on. He hadn't been ready for the confirmation, to deal with what It would have meant for his future. Now that he had one, and It had been supposed to include her in it.

He was just _now_ realizing and admitting to himself that _she_ was the one he'd thought of before dying, because he knew since months -even if it was unconsciously- that it was _her_ he would miss the most over _there_.

Would he be the one she would miss the most if she was going there too? No, no, no. She wasn't going there.

Why would she think about him? He hadn't even really spoken to her tonight, too absorbed into his task to save the world. To save her. To give her a future.

But did she know? Surely she knew that a part of him was doing it for her, for them. That it wasn't because he didn't want to talk to her but that his mind was full of other things. Maybe he should have let her take a bit more place in his mind…

The last thing he ever wanted was to make her feel like she wasn't worth his time, to hurt her. And he wasn't able to shake away the feeling he probably did.

But he never wanted to.

They had understood each other so perfectly before, like if only a shared glance could have meant a thousand words. What was between them (that intense connection and sweet intimity) was something he'd dreamt to share with another person all his life, all those years trapped in the cupboard under the stairs. It was easy, it was precious and it was theirs. Ginny had to know he'd thought of her every night since their break up, since this summer he fell for her and her contagious smile, her blazing look.

The same look she'd given him before he'd kissed her for the first time.

Harry tried to think of a clue he could have given her, that she was still his everything, his head pounding furiously to the point he had to close his tired eyes, making even more tears run onto his dirty cheeks. He couldn't think of one and he regretted it immensely, because he'd seen into her eyes when she'd exclaimed his name in the Room of Requirement that it had never been over for her, just like when she'd showed him into her room, kissing him like never before. Ginny had shown she would wait without needing any words. For him, for them. And a year later, he'd done nothing to prove that he was still thinking about it.

The meaning of their last kiss was clear to him and that's why he'd returned it without thinking much, because he'd wanted her to understand that if he had only a little, a slim chance of surviving the war, he would run into her arms.

But he hadn't, he realized with wide-eyes, his heart clenching painfully in his chest.

He'd run in the other direction the second he had the chance.

He had wanted to call her name, to let her know what he was about to do, to have her telling him to stay with her when he was on his way to the forest. How had he been able to shut her out of his mind when she was all that was filling it hours ago?

He buried his face into her jumper for a moment, hoping to not disturb Mrs. Pomfrey's work, but not minding it at the same time. He needed to touch her and make her feel he was there. Finally. Just for her.

He couldn't be too late.

The auror closest to Harry started running all of a sudden. Spells burst far from where they were, and Harry saw Ron gripping his wand and starting to run in the same direction, followed by Arthur and his sons and Fleur; Harry thought he saw Dean and Neville running too. Hermione joined Percy at Molly's side, holding her hands in support. Many aurors were fighting two death eaters, and for a second, Harry wanted nothing else than to curse them to death, to avenge Ginny, a blind rage giving him the need to get up and fight. But he couldn't let Ginny alone here. Biting his bottom lip, he looked at her, retaking his position at her side.

It could wait. Everything could wait. Because maybe they didn't have years.

Harry took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the scent of dirt and blood on her mixed with the faint scent of her sweet-smelling hair, that scent that had made his head spin so many times when she'd put her warm lips on his, a smell that felt like home.

With his trembling hand full of scratches, he clutched hers to his mouth, his lips lingering on her cold skin as he kissed it briefly between two sobs. That hand, the only hand, that had passed in his hair and pulled them slightly in a moment of pure bliss, that had caressed his scar tenderly one night when he was moody and everything had seemed hard. That soft hand that had clutched his forearms when they had been kissing under his blanket for the first time.

Everything seemed blurry around him, his tears making it difficult to see what Mrs. Pomfrey was now doing to save Ginny. Blinking his tears away, Harry noticed she was wearing the same necklace she'd always worn, as far as he knew. He could remember the rough feeling of the chain on his lips when he'd finally allowed himself to kiss another part of her anatomy than her lips. The little heart-shaped locket that was normally shining on her chest was now covered in her blood.

Mrs. Pomfrey was shouting instruction after instruction to Professor McGonagall, who was trying to mend Ginny the best she could, as an auror did his best to calm down the other students and Ginny's family. Not that he cared anyway. His focus was entirely on the way her breathing seemed shallow and the fact her lips were now a frigid blue.

Harry's eyes fell on her stomach again with morbid curiosity, even if he'd tried to avert his eyes until now. His breath caught in his throat after seeing how it was still bleeding profusely, blood spreading quickly on the grass and under his shoes.

"No, no!" he heard Mrs. Pomfrey, and that was when his brain registered that Ginny was seizuring next to him, her small hand jumping in his, and all he could do was grip it forcefully like he might have been able to make her decide to give him another chance. To stay.

"Merlin, Poppy! We're losing her." Shrieking sounds erupted all around them and Harry just wanted them to stop.

"No, no we're not. Potter!" Mrs. Pomfrey roared, turning her head to him, and he fought the urge to yell at her to look at Ginny, not him, to never stop looking at her. "Harry! Move out of the way, you're not helping. Let her go," Mrs. Pomfrey ordered, her voice sharp, but he couldn't let Ginny go. She wasn't going to be alone. He knew exactly what it was to be alone and not knowing if you'd survive. "Let her go. NOW."

She then turned to her colleague, not waiting to see if Harry had listened to her or not. "Minerva, I need help. Minerva, come on! We need to stabilise her. Move your wand in a circle like-" Pomfrey continued, while she demonstrated the movement with her own wand.

"I'll help, I'll help!" announced professor Flitwick, his body appearing next to Harry's.

His entire body shaking uncontrollably, Harry battled with himself and decided to let Ginny's hand go, but with the promise to be just there, at her side. Not far away. So close. _But not enough._

' _She won't wake.'_

' _She's still alive, [...] but only just.'_

He moved a little to make place to his professors and desperately tried to ignore the wet feeling under his knees. Professor Mcgonagall brushed a tear from her cheek abruptly and, with a determination on her face, started doing what Mrs. Pomfrey was telling her to do. Harry didn't fail to see how her hands were trembling.

He thought for a second to help them - the movement of the wands didn't seem that difficult - but he'd no control on his hands right now, they were trembling too much, and he couldn't do anything more than watch people branding their wands at Ginny's body while he was agonizing from terror.

It was pure torture to do… nothing. It wasn't in him to sit back and wait, to hope for the best and to not do everything in his power to make it better, and he was obligated to do it when the woman he loved was dying in front of his eyes. The one he hadn't seen since so long and was just noticing how she was more beautiful than ever.

"There-there's no pulse anymore. I CAN'T FIND HER PULSE. I-I-" shouted professor McGonagall to Mrs. Pomfrey, who hurried to start moving her wand towards Ginny's heart in frantic attempts to make her breathe again.

It was unbearable, this uncontrollable panic that froze his insides, like a monster crawling from his toes to his fingers, paralyzing his entire body and making it impossible to properly breathe. The darkest of the monsters, eating away every ounce of joy Harry ever felt, taking away his hope of a brighter future at her side and only letting him faded memories that would one day seem like dreams.

' _-how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…'_

He simply knew that if he lost her now, he'd also lose himself. That if her heart never beat again - never beat again for _him_ \- his would forever be broken.

He passed his hand on his mouth to hide the noise that was dangerously trying to escape, now noticing that his fingers were full of Ginny's blood.

That's when he felt his wall collapse completely, allowing his silent tears to turn into sobs that were escaping his mouth one after the other.

The emotional pain surging through his veins was making him totally unable to suppress them, but he didn't care for once about who was going to see him like this. The Chosen One was broken, he was scared to death and the reason for that wasn't breathing.

Hands gripping his hair, he tried to block Mrs. Weasley's own heartbreaking sobs who was in her husband's arms, and he realized that Charlie, Ron, George - who had returned somehow- and Hermione were calling Ginny's name, telling her with a strangled voice to fight, to come back, to not give up...

It was like all the gulps of air he was quickly trying to take weren't enough -never enough- and he was suffocating, making his head spinning, and spinning.

He'd been too focused on Ginny to even notice what was happening around him. Luna, Dean, Seamus and Neville were holding hands, and Harry realized that tears were freely running on their cheeks. Michael was biting his fist and Harry could see the shock in Dean's eyes and wondered for a second if, for him too, a world without Ginny was inconceivable. Demelza, for her part, was looking directly at him with daggers in her eyes. Harry didn't take time to dwell on this because Ginny was his priority.

His eyes fell on Cho who was looking at him with compassion, and Harry realized that she knew what it was to find the love of your life lying on the ground, looking lifeless. He was now able to understand the feeling of not knowing if that person will wake up ever again and knowing more than everything that nobody will ever be able to replace them, even if you try.

He'd been annoyed with her when she'd tried to force her company on him again in the Room of Requirement, but hadn't thought it was the time to say anything with the war, although he'd been really grateful that Ginny had said something. She'd clearly felt he was uncomfortable and that it wasn't the time, so she'd proposed Luna to accompany him. Ginny had cut it short, and that's just now that Harry could see that maybe she'd been jealous, maybe she was still interested in him finally, and it had annoyed her that Cho wanted to use that time to make up with him.

Harry hoped it was now clear in her head that he never felt anything even close for Cho that he felt for Ginny.

A flash of Cedric's body on the ground emerged in his mind, his words echoing in his head. " _Don't leave me here, Harry."_

He wasn't going to let Ginny here... Would they have to find what to do with her body like all the other ones in the castle?

He didn't know why he was allowing his mind to drift there, only increasing his panic, and why he couldn't control it. He only wanted to believe everything was going to be alright, but everyone he loves dies.

She was his fighter, she was stronger than anyone he knew and she was going to live.

"I love you Ginny. Please," Harry whispered, his head between his knees.

"She's breathing, Minerva! I need to stop the bleeding this time or we'll lose her again. Monitor her heart while-"

"She's fighting it. Good Heavens! She's doing it! Poppy, look!" Professor Minerva exclaimed, pointing at Ginny's stomach.

"Wha-! Sweetie, do it. Do it, we're here. I know you can do it!"

She was fighting it, using her magic to heal herself. Of course she was. Ginny had been able to fight an horcrux for a whole year, all alone, at eleven. She was the strongest, his Ginny.

Harry jumped to join her side, taking her hand in his.

"Go Gin. Fight it. Fight it! Please, please, I need you," Harry added, his voice rough and trembling, holding her hand on his cheek.

That's when he noticed Ginny was looking at him with tired eyes.

"Ginny… Oh my God, Ginny!" he sobbed on her hand. "That's okay. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, I'm here now," he told her while Ginny's family were arriving.

She smiled.

"Hi Harry."


End file.
